


The One Where They Do Christmas

by HannibalDadJokes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: !! I DIDN'T ABANDON THIS I SWEAR BUT THE NEXT UPDATE MIGHT BE SOMETIME THIS FALL IM SOWWY !!, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Crafts, Dean is a Softie, Dean likes to cook, Dean's got a big ol' crush on Cas, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gift Giving, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm bad at writing, Jack is sonboy, Jack really likes juice, Mary can't come to the phone right now. Why? Because she's not in this fic, This is completely self indulgent, basically it's Jack's first Christmas and they go all out, cas is a good dad, in this universe zoopal plates were never discontinued
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HannibalDadJokes/pseuds/HannibalDadJokes
Summary: Dean lets himself imagine how it could go. The decorating, exchanging gifts as old holiday movies play on low volume in the background, glasses full of eggnog, stomachs full from a warm home cooked meal. Colorful lights dancing lazily on a fully decked out tree. A tall tree at that, they’d actually have room in the bunker. No more dinky little reject trees sitting all alone in the corner of a motel room. Bright laughter and cozy pajamas.They could actually have that, he thinks to himself.That, or everything could go monumentally wrong. But that thought doesn’t make him feel quite as soft.





	The One Where They Do Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! I've been working on this fic for about a month, and it's the most I've ever written. I'm proud of myself, but little reminder that I'm not the best at writing.
> 
> This first chapter is pretty much just crafting decorations and Jack drinking juice. That said, this is pretty much just self indulgent Christmas fluff, and if you're into that, I hope you enjoy!

Jack’s interest in crafting began early one fine December morning.

He had been browsing Youtube when he had stumbled upon the ‘Crafts & DIY’ genre, and the bright thumbnails had drawn him in. Several hours into binging content filled with impractical trinkets, decorations, and ‘life hacks’, there was a knock at his door.

“Come in,” He called out, not taking his eyes off of the screen. Dean poked his head in through the door, neutral expression turning bewildered at the god awful music playing from Jack’s laptop.

Dean opened the door further and leaned his torso inside, coffee mug in hand. Trying to process what the fuck he was hearing, he let out a slow blink. “What...what the hell are you watching?”

Jack looks up at that. Then back down at his screen. “They’re called….” a squint. “DIY videos?” He looks back up.

Dean blinks again. “D.I.What now?”

Jack scoots towards the edge of his bed, turning the screen at an angle so Dean could get a look. Walking next to the bed, the hunter’s eyes are immediately assaulted with brightness and an earful of high energy music. The nephilim turns his attention back to the screen.

“It stands for...do it yourself, I think.” He squints, crosses his legs, and rests his chin in his palm. “Most of these don’t seem very practical, but some of them look fun. And sparkly. I think I wanna try to make them.”

Dean barely manages to pry his eyes away from the assortment of glitter, X-Acto knives, and hot glue guns, and he turns his gaze down at the kid. “Seriously?” He asks. Because seriously? Why did he have to be the one to walk in on this?

Jack gives a single solemn, determined nod.

Dean just closes his eyes for a moment. Taking a silent moment to reflect on his life. He takes a slow sip of coffee and sighs.

“Yeah, okay, you want a ride to the craft store?” He asks. Because he’s trying. “I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go get groceries with me, anyways.” Jack beams up at him like he hung the moon and stars.

“Yes! Thank you.” Jack manages to blurt out before racing out of his bed, leaving the laptop open and on, nearly knocking the hunter down in his haste. He may as well have left a person shaped dust cloud.

Once again, Dean lets out a sigh. “You’re gonna need your shoes, kid!” He shouts down the hall, wherever the nephilim had run off to.

He started walking down the hallway, at a more leisurely pace, mind you, making a stop in the kitchen to drop off his now empty mug. Sam is sitting at the table typing away furiously (or is it passionately? Reverently? It’s like his hands are making love to the keys. Disturbing.).

Meanwhile, Cas is sat across from Sam, squinting at him as if the click-clacking of the keyboard is a dead language. Even though Dean is pretty sure that Cas knows every dead language, that’s beside the point.

The angel tears his eyes away from studying Sam’s hand movements and facial expressions at the sound of heavy, boot-clad footfalls. His gaze settles on Dean, who has made his way over to the freestanding utility sink where he proceeds to set his mug inside of the basin. Sam doesn’t even blink at his entrance, nor the loud clash of ceramic-on-ceramic action.

The oversized hunter does, however, ask “What did Jack say?”

“He’s coming with. Also offered him a ride to the craft store, so who knows how long we’re gonna be gone.” Dean relays to his brother, as he pats his pockets making sure he has the essentials.

Sam certainly looks up at that, and Cas squints and does that funny head-tilt. “Craft store?” they ask in unison, Sam’s tone is slightly surprised, while Castiel’s is more questioning.

Dean shifts his eyes slowly from brother to angel, a bit taken aback at the unity. “....Yeah, craft store, walked in on him watching some weird ‘craft’ videos,” craft is said with unease, vivid colors and upbeat music playing back in his mind, “he seemed pretty excited about it.”

Sam let out a bemused little ‘huh.’ under his breath as he turn his attention back to whatever he was typing out with the zeal of a college student 10 minutes before a deadline.

Castiel’s eyes are still burning a hole through Dean’s face, the intensity softening at the mention of his son’s excitement about the outing. A look of understanding dawns on his face and a gentle smile slowly makes its way onto his mouth.

“I see,” the Seraph starts, “I’m glad to see him taking interest in something other than hunting-” Dean hums in agreement. “-and to see you supporting those interests.” Castiel finishes with a fond look.

And damn if that one look didn’t make his insides feel like a fresh-from-the-oven, gooey, melty chocolate chip cookie.

Dean makes a dismissive grumble and shuts his brothers oncoming remarks up with a single glare. Turning his (suddenly much warmer than usual) face away from the pair and back at the door. “Don’t wanna keep Jack waiting, he took off the second I asked him if he wanted to go.”

As he makes his exit, Cas calls out “Make sure he has a jacket, it’s supposed to be rather cold today.” Dean grunts out a “Yeah.” back at him.

He still makes a stop back at Jack’s room to grab his jacket, even if he knows the kid was already wearing a hoodie, and his shoes.

He double checks to make sure he has Baby’s keys, and walks out to the garage where Jack is already waiting in the front passenger seat. Less sitting, more light, excited bouncing. Dean just quirks his brows and tilts his head in resignation.

The driver’s side door creaks open and Jack perks up. “What took you so long?” He asks. Dean hands him his canvas jacket and sneakers and slides into the seat. “Jeez, kid, I didn’t take that long.” The hunter mumbles.

Jack just hums in response and arranges the jacket with care onto his lap and sets the pair of shoes on the floor board. The engine rumbles to life and Dean makes sure to crank the heat up before pulling out of the garage and onto the bumpy road just outside.

As if the nephilim couldn’t get any more excited, the “Alright, craft store first, we still have to get cold stuff from the grocery store.” from Dean sure proved him wrong.

Dean his eyes off of Jack and back onto the road and clears his throat. “So uh, what did you wanna make?” There’s the sound of fabric and paper rustling, and Jack triumphantly holds up a crinkled sheet of paper in his hand.

Dean looks back at the road. Then back at Jack. The road again. “.....Did you….make a list?”

Jack nods. “Well…Christmas is coming up soon, right? I read about it. And decorations are a big part of that too, aren’t they?” He looks to Dean for confirmation, which he receives. “Some of the videos I watched showed how to make the decorations! It looks like fun.”

Oh god, what has Dean gotten himself into. Not that he necessarily minds a little holiday cheer, especially when his family is together and more or less whole and healthy. But homemade decorations? Christ, there’s gonna be glitter in places no speck of glitter should ever be near.

But one glance back at Jack’s excited face tells him it’s a lost cause.

“So, you wanna do Christmas too, or just the decorations?” The hunter asks. To which Jack answers “I think I’d enjoy experiencing Christmas.”.

And Dean lets himself imagine how it could go. The decorating, exchanging gifts as old holiday movies play on low volume in the background, glasses full of eggnog, stomachs full from a warm home cooked meal. Colorful lights dancing lazily on a fully decked out tree. A tall tree at that, they’d actually have room in the bunker. No more dinky little reject trees sitting all alone in the corner of a motel room. Bright laughter and cozy pajamas.

They could actually have that, he thinks to himself.

That, or everything could go monumentally wrong. But that thought doesn’t make him feel quite as soft.

“Yeah,” he starts, “Christmas would be nice. We’ll go all out, it’s your first after all. You only get one of those.” Dean looks over at Jack and gives him a small smile.

The nephilim is practically vibrating with excitement at this point.

Dean lets him have this, and takes a hand off the wheel to turn the radio on. To some small local station that’s been blasting out ‘deck the halls’ since early November.

Jack looks like he’s about to explode from joy alone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The ride to the nearest craft store takes a while, given the bunker is in the middle of Bumfuck Nowhere. The second he pulls into the parking lot, Jack is unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing to open his door. “Jeez, kid,” Dean mummers under his breath as he hastily unbuckles his own seatbelt and joins the nephilim in the parking lot.

The hunter stands beside Jack while he hastily ties his shoes. The second the shoes are tied, the nephilim stands up and stares at the store in wonder. “It’s a building, Jack. It’s not that impressive.”

“It’s a store! A whole store dedicated just to crafts! I think it’s pretty impressive.” He looks over at Dean before nodding to himself in affirmation and making a beeline for the door, leaving Dean to follow.

The teenager sized infant takes his list out of his pocket, unfolding it as he walks through the door. He double checks it before looking up, and when he does his eyes are assaulted with harsh fluorescent lights and a vaguely spicy scent. “Oh, this is wonderful.” The nephilim whispers, half to himself, half to the hunter who has caught up to him.

Dean, however unimpressed he is, smiles at the look of pure adoration on the kid’s face. He takes a look around, eyes drawn to the Christmas shit scattered all over the store. Fake snow lines the ledge where the plastic trees are positioned. Pre-made wreaths and garland are hung on endcaps. Aisles are lined with boxed up shiny glass ornaments, tree toppers, and lights. Rolls of wrapping paper stuffed inside of tall boxes. There is glitter all over the speckled floor tiles. It looks like Christmas had one hell of a hangover and vomited everywhere.

Jack must have seen where he was staring off to, because now his wide eyes are glued to it. “It’s so….much.” He says in awe. Jack turns his eyes back to Dean and grins. “I love it.”

Dean gives him a smile at that, eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s genuine, and it shows. “Alright,” he steers the conversation back to the matter at hand, “what do you need for your…’DIYs’?” Jack moves closer, list in hand high enough for them both to see it.

The list consists of pretty normal craft supplies. Nothing that could burn the bunker down or anything.

“They should have all of that here.” Dean says. “Should I even ask what sort of decorations you’re gonna make, or is it gonna be a surprise?” He asks the last part with a tinge of sarcasm.

“It’s a surprise.” Jack says conspiratorially.

“O...kay then. Tell you what, why don’t you get your stuff and I can pick up some lights and crap for a tree.”

Jack nods in confirmation before taking off, sneakers squeaking on the floor as he turns and powerwalks with determination down an aisle.

 

* * *

 

Jack takes his time shopping. He spends a truly ridiculous amount of time picking and contemplating each item. Then carefully setting each one down inside the basket he found abandoned in an empty aisle. Crossing the item off of his meticulously folded list. Rinse and repeat.

Even if he didn’t need an item down it, he leisurely strolled down each aisle. Observing, absorbing. He eventually came across the shelf that housed the model car sets, and Dean popped into his mind as his eyes scanned the boxes. A big smile appeared on his face when he spotted the 1967 Chevrolet Impala. The car on the box was purple, but Jack new Dean would appreciate the gesture despite the color. He carefully rearranges his basket so that the box was hidden. He could probably get away with sneaking it onto the counter without the hunter seeing it.

Dean was on the other side of the store, picking out lights and the things needed to hang them. And a tree skirt. And some plain ornaments, because there was no way Jack could make enough for a whole tree by himself. And some wrapping paper, because he was running low. He picks up a roll of paper that has a bunch of tiny dogs in sweaters on it and sets it in his cart, thinking of his brother.

The wrapping paper gets him thinking about gifts, which gets him thinking about what he got for his family.

He bought Jack a Starwars box set and a robe with matching slippers. And he got Sam a new wallet (his old one was falling apart) and some nice sturdy suede boots.

But he was still at a loss for Cas. “What to get for the angel who has everything?” He mutters to himself under his breath, earning him a startled look from the old lady across the aisle. Dean sends her a quick apologetic smile before turning back to the gift bags.

He runs a list through his mind.

Honey? Thoughtful, but not enough on it’s own. A whole ass beehive? ….Maybe. Socks? Okay, kind of lame but it has potential. Tie? And a Tie clip? There we go, that’s an idea!

  
Lost in thought, the hunter was too distracted to see Jack walk up next to him. “Why are you staring at that gift bag, Dean?”

Dean startles, hand instinctively reaching for the gun he left in the car. “Holy shit.” He hisses out under his breath when he realizes it’s just Jack.

“Oh, sorry Dean.” He apologizes. Dean relaxes. “It’s fine.” He looks down at Jack’s full basket. “You ready to go, then?”

Jack nods, so they make their way to the checkout lanes.

They wait in line, they pile their horde onto the counter, they pay (jesus fuck he’s so fucking glad this wasn’t his hard earned money, how is hot glue and glitter this expensive?!), and they carry their armfulls of plastic bags out to the car.

They settle in their seats and crank the heat up. “Can we get a tree now?” Jack asks excitedly.

“We have to get groceries first. And besides, we need a pickup truck to get one home.”

Jack frowns at that. Dean pulls out of the parking lot and they make their way to the store. He sits in silence while Jack broods in the passenger seat. It’s a while before the kid perks his head up.

“What are we having for dinner?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

A couple of hours later, they leave the grocery store. It usually doesn’t take that long, but Jack likes to soak in every item on every aisle. He asks about everything he picks up. Dean answers patiently. That, piled on top of the fact Christmas was just a few days away hindered their time.

They arrive back at the bunker, and Sam appears in the garage to help bring in the groceries.

“Did you guys have fun?” He asks as he packs several bags into his long arms, mostly aimed at Jack. The nephilim nods enthusiastically as they walk towards the kitchen. “I got everything I needed. It was very educational.”

Sam gives him a warm smile as he sets his bags down onto the stainless steel countertops. “Good! What did you get?” Jack gives him a secretive smile as he unpacks the contents of the plastic bags. “It’s a surprise.”

Sam huffs a laugh at that. “I see how it is.”

Dean then walks into the room carrying a truly ridiculous amount of groceries. He definitely doesn’t drop a few bags, don’t listen to what Sam would tell you.

“Jesus, why do you always do this?” Sam mummers as he bends down to pick up the dropped bags.

“Because, Sammy, more than one trip out to the car is for weak people. People who can’t open jars. People who refuse to drink tap water. People who moisturize after they shower, people wh-”

“We get it, Dean.” Sam grumbles while he puts the bags on the counter.

“Do you Sam? Do you really?” Dean grins.

“I don’t,” Jack chimes in. “what do grocery bags have to do with moisturization?”

“Well you see-” Dean starts, and his brother cuts him off with “Don’t listen to his lies Jack, I know for a fact he uses lotion after he showers.”

The older hunter huffs. “Maybe so, but at least I carry my groceries in only the most efficient way.”

“Whatever you say.” Sam says, stacking cans into the pantry. Jack is just very confused, but continues putting thing away.

Castiel walks in just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. He just keeps his mouth shut, he really doesn’t want to get involved with the argument about bag carrying techniques.

Dean nods his way in greeting and Jack sends him a smile. He smiles at both of them as he takes the case of beer Sam hands him over to the fridge. “How was your trip?” Cas asks.

“It was great!” Jack starts, “I got what I needed. But I can’t tell you what it’s for, it’s a secret.” He finishes with a goofy smile. Cas just raises his eyebrows and looks to Dean, who just mouths “secret” at him. He then looks at Sam who just shrugs. “No idea, they won’t tell me.”

“Alright then.” Cas says. He examines a bundle of bananas before setting them in the fruit bowl.

They finish putting up the groceries and Jack and Dean go back out to the car to grab the bags from the craft store, and they set them down in Jack’s room. “Can I have a juicebox? Also, can we get a tree now?” He asks in quick succession.

“Just one before dinner, and you’ll have to ask your dad if we can borrow his truck.” Dean tells him. Jack nods and races out of his room. He walks back to the kitchen where his father is sitting at the table. “Can we borrow your truck?” He asks him, grabbing a juicebox from the fridge.

Castiel blinks. “My truck?” His son nods. “Dean said we can do Christmas and we need a tree for that.” He explains. “And Dean said we can’t get a tree without a truck.”

Cas processes this, and then nods before grabbing the keys out of his coat pocket and handing them to Jack. The nephilim beams and races back to his room, juice box forgotten on the counter.

 

  
Picking a tree was a tedious affair. Jack had nearly collided with Sam in his haste to find Dean, which had ended with Sam tagging along with them to the tree lot. The brothers had taken up the task of actually finding the tree, as Jack was once again mesmerized with the foreign surrounds.

And boy oh boy was it a tree. A fluffy noble fir standing at an impressive height of 9 feet. Even Sam would need to stand on his toes to reach the top.

It had taken all three of them as well as the guy working at the lot to lift the thing into the bed of Castiel’s truck. They then sent Jack inside the bunker when they returned to get Cas to help them bring it in.

And a couple of hours later, it was all set up in The Dean Cave. They had moved the table in the corner out of the room to make space for it. Sam and Dean were untangling the new lights (the little bastards had somehow managed to get tangled up in the few minutes they’d been out of their boxes) and Cas and Jack were sat together on the floor removing the plain glass ornaments from their little plastic nests inside of the boxes. When Sam looked over to check on them, he noticed Jack hoarding a separate pile of the clear ornaments. “What are those for?” He asks, brow furrowed.

Jack looks startled. “It’s a secret!” He blurts. Sam raises his eyebrows and puts his hands up in a defensive gesture, and drops the subject. Cas however, looks at the pile for the first time and squints. He opens his mouth to ask a question when Dean sets down his bundle of lights and butts in.

“I forgot I got eggnog at the store. Who wants eggnog?” He asks in an attempt to avoid further line of question, and Jack looks at him thankfully. “I’d like some eggnog!”

Sam looks back and forth between them.“Eggnog would be good.” He says cautiously. Cas is squinting at Dean. Dean is staring at him. This is normal behavior.

“Eggnog?” Dean asks Cas, who nods his head after a moment of thought. “Alright, eggnog for everybody.”

After a while, Dean returns to the room, tray of glasses full of eggnog in hand. He sets it down on the coffee table they had set up in front of the new couch. Sam grabs a glass for himself and one for Jack. He hands it to Jack who takes it and sniffs it. He takes a careful sip and his entire face lights up before he takes another. Sam snorts as he takes a sip for himself. His is spiked, and he looks at Dean in silent question. Dean shakes his head, conveying that Jack’s is just plain eggnog. He nods his silent approval and holds up his untangled string of lights in triumph.

The lights are the colorful kind, the ones that twinkle in different patterns with the click of a remote. Dean really went all out.

“What do I do with these?” Sam asks his brother. “What do you mean? You put them on the tree, Sam.” Dean tells him, not looking up from his pile. Sam rolls his eyes. “I know that, I just thought maybe you’d want to do it yourself.”

Dean scoffs. “If I don’t have to get up from this couch, you bet your ass I’m not gonna.” His brother gives him a bitchface before taking his lights over to the tree to set them up.

Dean eventually gets his untangled as well. After the lights have been arranged and a break for dinner, they move onto the tinsel and the popcorn garland Cas and Jack have been working on. And then the ornaments.

Dean steps back to admire their handiwork. The sight takes a weight off of his shoulders and gives him a fuzzy feeling in his gut. Sam walks back next to him to do the same, and gives a smile. “Looks good. I’m gonna go ahead and turn in, don’t forget to turn the lights off before you go to bed.” He tells his brother as he gives him a pat on the shoulder before walking out into the hallway.

Cas retires to his room shortly after to watch Netflix or whatever it is he does in his spare time, leaving Dean and Jack alone.

“This was fun,” Jack says. “Do you still think there will be room for my stuff?”

Dean gives the tree a once over, before walking to it and carefully removing a few ornaments. “Now there is.”

Jack smiles at that. “Thank you, Dean.” The hunter waves it off.

“While I have you here, I needed to ask you something.” He tells the nephilim. Jack tilts his head, waiting for the question.

Dean has to look away before continuing. “I uh, I don’t really know what to get your dad for Christmas. I was thinking like a tie or something, but it seems a little lame. Do you think you could like...help me find him something?”

Jack just gives him that big smile again. “Of course, Dean! I’m going to make him something, maybe you could do that too?” Dean hadn’t even considered that. “That’s….not a half bad idea, kid. What would I make him?”

Jack considers the options. “I have some clay? You could make him something with clay.” He suggests.

“That’s...not very specific. But it’s a start, I guess.” Dean sighs. He can still get the tie and shit as a backup, he guesses. Or just to add on, ‘something with clay’ also doesn’t seem like enough. Nothing is really ever gonna feel like enough for Cas, but he can try his damndest.

“You can do it in my room tomorrow, I’m going to start on my stuff too!” Jack says. Dean gives him a weary smile. “Sure, kid. It’s getting late, you should get some sleep.”

“Only if you get some too, Dean. Your sleeping habits are very unhealthy.” Jack scolds him. Dean huffs a laugh. “Sound just like your dad. Fine, we both get some rest.”

They walk down the hall together, and Dean drops Jack off at his room before making his way to his own. They had a long day of crafting to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Dean had risen bright and early. He shuffled out of his room and down the hall towards the kitchen (clad in dead guy robe and slippers). Sam was once again seated at the table, dressed in his running gear, drinking coffee. “Morning.” His brother greets him. He grunts in response, walking over to grab a mug.

“You had breakfast yet?” He grumbles out. Sam shakes his head. “I was waiting on you.” He admits.

“Pancakes or waffles?” Dean asks, pouring himself a mug of the piping hot coffee. “Pancakes.” Sam answers. “Can you put some blueberries and bananas in?”

Dean rolls his eyes at that, even if he grabs the little container of blueberries while he’s getting the eggs and buttermilk. He grabs what else he needs to make the batter, going through the mental checklist he has stored away for breakfast. Eggs, flour, buttermilk, sugar, butter, baking soda and baking powder, a pinch of salt, splash of vanilla, and whatever add-ins he feels like.

“Is Jack up yet? And where’s Cas?” Dean asks, measuring out his dry ingredients.

“I think I heard him shuffling around earlier, but he hasn’t come out of his room, and Cas is out Christmas shopping.” His brother answers, taking another sip of coffee as he watches Dean work his kitchen magic.

“You mind telling Jack breakfast is on the way?” Dean asks, whisking eggs with the buttermilk and melted butter. Sam nods and gets up from the table, mug in hand, and takes off to Jack’s room.

Alone with his thoughts (and precious pancake batter), Dean reflects on his conversation with Jack the previous night. He had laid awake pondering his options over what the hell he can make Cas out of clay. He had gone ahead and ordered his other gifts online and overnighted them, but the thought of making something with his hands was still very much appealing. He has no idea if he’s any good at sculpting, but he guesses now is as good of a time as any to find out.

Sam walks back into the kitchen as Dean scoops batter onto a hot buttered griddle, seeming befuddled. “I knocked on the door and told him breakfast was almost ready and he told me to go away. What’s up with him?”

Dean snorts, gingerly setting banana slices into a pancake. “He’s working on his top secret projects, Sammy.”

“Oh, that explains it.” Sam starts. “How come you’re the only one allowed to know what he’s doing?”

“Because I’m his favorite.” Dean answers flatly, making a little smiley face out of blueberries and banana slices on another pancake.

Sam scoffs at that. “I don’t think he could pick. It’s like picking your favorite child, but the opposite.”

The older hunter nods his head to the side in agreement on that, flipping a pancake he deems sufficentily bubbly. “Could you manage to juice some oranges, or would you somehow end up burning yourself?” He asks his brother sarcastically.

Sam gives him a look, and walks over to the fruit bowl and takes out some oranges. It was one time, but Dean’s never letting him live that down.They share a comfortable silence as Sam slices and juices the oranges and Dean stands guard for his precious pancake babies.

After a while the batter is gone and there’s a fresh pile of steaming, fluffy pancakes on a plate and a small pitcher of orange juice. After Sam gets a few pancakes for himself, Dean puts the plate with the rest and the juice pitcher on a tray with some plates and utensils.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks. “Gonna take this to Jack, may as well eat with him.” His brother replies. “I also wanna see what the hell he’s up to in there.”

Sam nods and gets back to his plate of pancakes.

Tray in hands, the hunter makes his way down the hallway to Jack’s room, awkwardly knocking with his knuckles. “Jack? Can you open the door, I got my hands full here.” He hears a shuffling sound as Jack rushes to the door, and something definitely gets knocked over.

When the nephilim swings the door open, his hair is in disarray and there’s so much glitter stuck to his cheek.

“Good morning, Dean!” He says, awfully chipper. “Morning, kid.” Dean replies, taking a look around Jack’s room. And it’s an absolute mess. An organized mess, but still a mess. “...Brought you some breakfast.” He finishes lamely.

“Thank you! Do you want to come in?” Jack replies. Dean nods and the kid steps to the side, clearing a spot on his desk off for the tray. “Are those pancakes?” He asks

“You bet they’re pancakes. Sam made me put fruit in them, but I snuck a couple of chocolate chips in there. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Jacks smiles at that. Dean makes them each a plate and hands one to Jack, then pours him a glass of orange juice. For some reason, Jack really likes juice. Can’t really blame him for that.

Jack sits down on the floor amidst the heart of the craft chaos, and Dean takes a seat on his desk chair.

“So, what have you been up to in here?” The hunter asks. Jack perks up after shoving a forkfull of pancakes into his mouth, and fetches his project. It’s a ton of paper snowflakes, attached with what looks like a long piece of fishing line. The snowflakes are covered in a fine iridescent glitter that shifts colors in the light. Each snowflake has a different pattern, and they look like they’re made out of doilies.

“Jesus, kid, how long did that take?” Dean asks quietly, still in awe. Jack looks down at the garland. “Not that long, actually. Getting the glitter on them was the hardest part. Glitter is very difficult to work with.” He says the last part with a frown, setting the string down onto a pile of others.

“They’re...pretty.” Dean tells him. The word feels foreign on his tongue, but it’s apt.

Jack gives him a bright smile. “Thank you! I’m about to make some ornaments, would you like to help?”

“Maybe after we eat, I don’t think syrup and glitter would be a good mix.” He shudders just thinking about that. Two of the most difficult substances to remove combined.

Jack nods and hurries to finish his pancakes.

Dean consumes his sticky breakfast at a slower pace than his company, surprisingly. He’s down to the last bite when he asks, “So what kind of decorations are we making?”

Jack rests his empty plate on his lap and wipes his hands with a wet wipe (those things really come in handy). He picks up his laptop from it’s spot on the floor and angles the screen towards the hunter. “You make these with crayons and a hair dryer! I had to take one from Sam, I hope he doesn’t mind.” He says the last part worriedly, as if he’s just now realizing Sam might actually need it.

Dean snorts. “Nah, even if he did he could just towel dry it like the rest of us.” He sets his plate back onto the tray, taking an offered wet wipe from Jack to remove the stickiness from his hands. “So, how does one make an ornament from crayons and a hair dryer?”

“Well,” Jack begins, “you break up the crayons, and use the blow dryer to melt them! You can put different colors or glitter in them too.” Dean nods at this. “Seems pretty straightforward.” He leaves his chair to sit on the cold floor across from Jack.

The nephilim holds out a box of crayons and tells Dean to pick some colors. So he does. And then Jack hands him the box of tiny plastic vials filled with glitter, so he picks some nice colors.

They work together in silence, Dean holds the hair dryer as Jack twirls the ornament around with a pair of needlenose pliers to melt the wax.

They end up with some pretty neat looking ornaments. Some of them are solid colors, others are multicolored and swirled. Some have one color of glitter, some have several. It’s a messy process, and he was right yesterday about the glitter in places it should never touch.

After they finished with the crayons, Jack rustled around in a plastic bag before pulling out a box of Christmas light bulbs. They covered the bulbs in glue before rolling them into glitter and hot gluing loops of ribbon to the base so they can hang from a branch. Pretty simple, but sparkly and pretty.

 

The two decided they’d save stocking decorating for when the whole family was together, so Jack brought out the clay.

Jack gave Dean an encouraging smile and a nod before tearing off a chunk of the clay and handing it to him. Dean nods back before taking his hunk of sculpting material over to Jack’s desk for some privacy.

He had been giving some thought to what he would make Cas. He had landed on a little bee sculpture (to match the tie clip and socks he bought last night) and an ornament. That’s a thing people do, right? Give each other ornaments? Even if it wasn’t, he was gonna do it anyway.

He looks over to Jack before starting, seeing the kid hunched over his lap with clay in hand, tongue sticking out in concentration. Taking a deep breath, he began his sculpting.

He starts off with the bee. Crafting a tiny misshapen lump for the body, two flat discs for wings, complete with antenna made out of a thin gauge black floral wire. He’s satisfied with his work, the little thing it actually pretty cute. In a “Little Timothy’s very first sculpture” kind of way.

He sets the bee aside to bake and then later paint and stares at the other lump of clay. He glances over his shoulder to check on Jack once again, satisfied after seeing him busy with his project.

He gets an idea of what he wants to do. He’s gonna need equipment, though. He gets up from the chair at the desk, objective in mind. The sound of the wooden legs scraping on the floor gets Jack’s attention. “Where are you going?” He asks.

“Gotta get something from the kitchen, you want anything?” Dean asks as he stretches his back and pops his neck. Jack considers this, and looks over at his clock. “Oh, it’s lunchtime already. Can we take a lunch break?”

Damn, time flies fast when you’re covering shit in glitter and getting clay under your nails. The hunter picks up his tiny bee as well as the clay’s package which contains instructions for baking. “Lunch break it is.”

Dean leaves the room and heads towards the kitchen, bee sculpture hidden away safely in the palms of his hands. When he reaches the kitchen, he takes a quick gander around to make sure he was alone. And he was! Dean walks over to the oven, following the clay manufacturer’s instructions and placing the bee on a sheet of parchment paper and delicately setting it on a baking tray.

Little bee creation safely in the oven, he starts working on lunch. Something simple would be best, so sandwiches it is. He makes sure to cut it diagonally and trim the crusts, the way he remembered his mom doing for him and the only way 6 year old Sammy would ever accept his lunch.

He puts the sandwich onto one of those plates meant for kids that have animal faces on them which Jack and Cas had brought back from a shopping trip. They’re ridiculous, but the identical looks of delight on their faces is worth every indignity Dean faces while staring into the cold, dead eyes of a cartoon frog plate.

Dean puts some baby carrot sticks and hummus on the plate as well, Sam’s reminder that they need to set a good example stuck in his head. He grumbles to himself something along the lines of ‘good example my left ass cheek’ and cuts his own sandwich on the bias and places it onto a plate with a lion’s face.

If he’s playing along with this, might as well make it something badass.

He checks on the bee figurine before pouring two glasses of milk for himself and Jack. By the time he’s done arranging lunch on yet another tray (why do they own so many trays? How did this happen to them?) the bee is sufficiently hardened, and he takes it out and sets it on the tray to bring back to Jack’s room.

He nearly forgets what he came into the kitchen for, and walks over to his designated Baking Shelf, and digs out exactly what he needs.

He walks back into Jack’s room, and places the tray onto the desk, narrowly avoiding smushing the leftover clay. Dean hands Jack his plate and glass and the nephilim’s face lights when he sees the plate.

They finish lunch without interruption, and get back to work on their projects. Dean picks up what he brought from the kitchen off of the tray and gets to work. He uses a comically small rolling pin that Sam had gotten him as a gag gift a few years back to roll out a sheet of clay. Joke’s on Sam, that thing came in pretty useful!

After he has a flat piece of clay, he uses a heart shaped cookie cutter that he may or may not have ordered in a set online. It was on clearance after Valentine’s Day, sue him.

Dean makes sure to leave a little hole at the top for a ribbon to go through. He admires his handiwork before looking back to watch Jack, who is finishing up an ornament. After the nephilim finishes, he proudly holds up his work, careful not to bend or smoosh the soft clay. Dean shoots him a thumbs-up.

He silently waits for Jack to finish his small army of clay figures before taking the baking tray (once again what the FUCK is with all of these trays?) he had placed them on into the kitchen.

Jack had sent Dean to case the kitchen to make sure they’d be alone while he lingered in the hallway holding their precious cargo. Given the all-clear, Jack walks into the room and quickly walks over to the oven. Dean opens the door for him and adjusts the tray once Jack puts it down.

While they’re waiting on the trinkets to harden, Jack washes the clay out from under his nails and rubs the glitter off of his cheeks while Dean grabs him a snack. They share a small packet of fruit snacks, leaning against the counter. “Have you gotten Sam anything for Christmas yet?” The nephilim asks.

Dean nods, finishes chewing and swallows his gummy snack before answering, good example. “Just a wallet and some shoes, nothing fancy.” He picks out another gummy from the packet and pops it into his mouth.

Jack nods. “It seems practical. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it very much.”

Dean turns the question back on the asker, “How about you? You gonna buy anything? Or I guess make something?”

Jack considers this. “I think I’ll make something. Somebody would have to take me shopping and I feel like that would spoil the surprise.”

The hunter nods at that, it seems reasonable. He opens his mouth to continue their smalltalk when the timer he set on his phone goes off, signaling that the ornaments should be done.

Which they are, so they take the tray out and fan it off with yet another goddamn tray (they really have a tray problem and it’s getting out of hand) to cool it off enough to handle. They still end up carrying it back down the hall with oven mitts on, which both looks and feels ridiculous.

They watch some dumb videos to pass the time while the ornaments are cooling before they can paint them. After enough time has passed, they get to work on painting.

Jack doesn’t even bat an eye at his ornament or his bee, just gives him a tiny, secretive smile.

Dean refuses to look him in the eye, but still manages to return the smile.

He decided to work on the bee first. The paint job is a little bit shaky, but the adorable wonky smiley face more than makes up for it if you ask Dean. He smiles to himself, very much pleased with his mediocre work, and sets it aside to dry.

Then it was time for the heart. He paints it a deep coral, outlining the shape with a metallic gold. While deciding what else he could do, he gets an idea. And boy oh boy, is it an idea.

It’s become a bit of a Winchester tradition to carve their initials into what matters most to them.

What means home to them, when nothing else did. The car that had been the roof of their heads more often than an actual roof. The table in a bunker that had been their first real, actual home in years.

It doesn’t seem very fair to exclude the one person in his life who’s been a home for the last 10 years from the tradition.

Mind made up, he grabs the black paint and a tiny detail brush and gets to work.

After it’s done, he sets the heart to the side with his bee sculpture. Jack perks up at the sound of him leaning back in the chair and cracking his neck, looking over and asking “Are you finished?”

When Dean nods, Jack hands him a little snowman. “Could you paint this? This is gonna take a while.”The hunter takes the small creation in hand, turns it over and decides the best way to paint it. After that one is finished, Jack hands him another. Then the process repeats.

After every clay ornament is painted, the nephilim hands him a box of popsicle sticks, paint, glitter, and hot glue. He shows Dean the video teaching him how to construct snowflakes out of them. So he does, and by the time they’ve run out of sticks, they have a small army of them.

They turn some into ornaments, and string others up onto ribbon, giving the doily snowflakes from this morning some friends.

A few hours have passed, and it’s about time for Dean to start dinner. Jack looks up at him when he moves to leave the room. “Is it time for dinner already?” He asks.

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, kid. Time sure flies when you’re covered in paint and glue like a kindergartener, huh?”

Jack grins at that. “Can you bring me dinner when it’s done? I need to finish something for Sam and Cas.” Dean nods in affirmation, and leaves the room.

He nearly runs into Cas, who’s just around the corner. The angel greets the hunter with that ever familiar “Hello Dean.”

“Hey Cas, you just get home?” Dean asks, wiping his hands on his jeans, desperately hoping some glitter will flake off. It doesn’t, of course

Cas nods in confirmation. “Everywhere I went was extremely crowded, and traffic wasn’t much better. I have no idea how people do this every year.” The last part is said with a look of admiration on his face.

Dean snorts, and Cas looks down to hall that leads to Jack’s room. “Has he come out? I went to say goodbye this morning and he told me to go away.” Castiel asks worriedly, looking very much like the concerned father that he is. “Is this a teenager thing? Because he isn’t even technically a teenager, yet.”

Dean bursts out laughing at that, bracing his hand on his friend’s shoulder to keep himself from doubling over.

“Dean, I’m being serious, is he alright?” The hunter sobers up at that, wiping a stray tear out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, man, he’s fine. He’s had breakfast and lunch, been in there with him all day.”

Cas looks relieved at this and pats Dean’s hand, which is still on his shoulder. “Good, I worry about him.” He removes his hand, letting it fall back down at his side.

Dean takes his hand off of the angel’s shoulder, moving it to rub at the back of his neck. He clears his throat, face suddenly much warmer than it should be.

“Yeah, I get that. He’s fine though, just busy with his top secret project.” The last part gets a smile from Cas.

“I’m gonna go make dinner, you wanna keep me company?” Dean asks, and Castiel nods. They both make their way to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

 

* * *

 

  
After dinner was made, Dean had managed to drag Jack out of his room to eat. “You need another break, kid. Besides, pretty sure Sam and Cas missed you today.” He had reasoned with the nephilim, which surprisingly worked.

The four of them ate dinner, and Jack asked Sam and Castiel if they’d like to decorate stockings with him. They had agreed happily.

So they all gathered on the floor of the Dean Cave, surrounded by glitter glue pens and sheets of felt. They had another round of eggnog, and after they had run out, hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream and marshmallows.

Stockings complete and mugs emptied, they hung their completed creations on the wall next to where the tree was set up.

Sam retired to his room to get some sleep and Jack went back into his Crafting Cave to finish up some gifts and decorations.

Cas bid Dean goodnight, leaving to figure out how to wrap his gifts.

 

Dean turned off the lights on the tree and left the Dean Cave to get some sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this first bit! I've got the bulk of the second chapter done, but I knew I wouldn't have the time to finish it all before Christmas. I've gotta get busy wrapping presents and baking today, so the next chapter probably won't be up until next week! (maybe later if my adhd is kicking my ass)
> 
> I might also come back and tweak some stuff if I need to.
> 
> Have patience with me, I'm determined to finish this! If you celebrate, I hope you have a happy holiday. And if you don't celebrate, just a nice day ❤


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